Gemma's ~~~ "Greyscale Territory" ~~~~~~~ Poetic Songlines: sculpture in autumn vines...

Monday, April 21, 2014

sculpture in autumn vines...

one of many sculptures scattered through Montalto vineyards at Red Hill...

art in the vines
creates a world of
fantasy

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6 comments:

Lina Gustina said...: What a wonderful shot!
www.homezweethome.info/2014/04/a-street-sweeper.html; April 22, 2014 at 2:49 AM
Tess @ Pro-tography 101 said...: How cool are these? I love the landscape as well.; April 22, 2014 at 3:49 AM
Ruth Kelly said...: Not sure about that sculpture - has me wondering.; April 22, 2014 at 4:24 AM
Gillena Cox said...: a very nice composition; great capture

have a nice Monday

much love...; April 22, 2014 at 6:27 AM
Anonymous said...: That does look like something from a fantasy world. Lovely capture!; April 24, 2014 at 9:06 AM
NatureFootstep said...: gret looking statue. Love teh green patina on it. :); April 24, 2014 at 4:30 PM

Archive of Blog Quotes

A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken. ~James Dent
Autumn is an introspective season when stray thoughts of the mind dive into the mystique of the soul - Gemma Wiseman
Autumn is the bridesmaid of Summer and the flowergirl of Winter ~ Gemma Wiseman
Autumn whispers the tones of yesterday in a minor key ~ Gemma Wiseman
Love is born / With a dark and troubled face, / When hope is dead / And in the most unlikely place; / Love is born, / Love is always born. - Michael Leunig's Christmas Song Cycle "Southern Star"
Spring paints the stars of heaven in Earth colours ~ Gemma Wiseman
Summer sizzles with a sibilant hush / Broken by dreams of / Clinking ice ~ Gemma Wiseman
The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul. - G.K. Chesterton
Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. - Stanley Horowitz
Winter is the fire, simmering lonely in the soul ~ Gemma Wiseman
Winter is the shadow, the etching of the seasons in the mist ~ Gemma Wiseman

Over 50! And Motoring!

T.S.Eliot's poetry has never failed to intoxicate me! In fact, his sunlight on a broken column, his midnights and lamp posts, his female rhythms mouthing Michelangelo pleasantries are all bound up in the "overwhelming question" of our real biorhythms and souls! ~ We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out. ~~~~Ray Bradbury ~~~~ Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass. ~~~Anton Chekhov ~~~ Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music. ~Angela Monet

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Footfalls echo in the memory, Down the passage which we did not take, Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden.- T.S.Eliot .............................. My page was too white/My ink was too thin/The day wouldn’t write/What the night pencilled in -'The Book of Longing' Leonard Cohen..................... Creative discord of fractured harmonies! Between the Question and the Answer is A Hush... A Whisper... A Dreaming...

The grit of raw desert lands whirls on the winds in erotic rhythms - sometimes. - Greyscale

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Monday, April 21, 2014

sculpture in autumn vines...

6 comments:

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